Dead Guy In My Nose
by Crowlows19
Summary: A short little parody about Voldemort's Death in the final movie. The Golden Trio could always be counted on to completely ruin a moment. One Shot.


Just a quick little something I threw together.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

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He had been forced to army crawl his way through the mud and blood caked cobblestones to recover Draco's fallen wand. It had been a mad dash, a race really, to make sure he had the slim piece of wood in his hand before Voldemort got out the Aveda Kedvra. There would be no recovering from it a _third_ time. Even he didn't have that kind of luck.

But find it he did, and in the end he would find himself grateful that Draco's wand wasn't completely incompatible with him. He spared a moment of thought as to what that might mean. If things had been different, if Draco hadn't been a complete and total prat that first year, could they have been friends? He wasn't sure. Who did he know that could figure out a realistic answer to that? Hermione? Luna? Maybe if he wanted to decipher the crazed up answer.

Focus, Potter.

Evil man with no hair and a bad nose job trying to murder you and every other person on the planet. Although, the man clearly didn't have a very loyal army. The first sign of defeat and half of the Death Eaters had run away. Again. Malfoys included, not so surprisingly.

No wonder they hadn't won the first time around. They were much too busy killing each other than devoting a significant amount of effort to winning. If it wouldn't have taken so long, he would have moved to the Bahamas and let them take each other out.

Okay seriously, focus.

Maybe Snape had been right all those times that he called him a distractible little monster. It was too bad that Harry had never known that Snape was at least sort of alright until after the guy had been bitten to death by a Horcrux. Although, he doubted it would have made much of a difference. Snape was just too cranky for Harry's tastes.

Voldemort let out an enormous animalistic roar that was almost as painful to listen to as the man's farce of a laugh. He actually felt sorry for Draco for having to endure that extremely awkward hug about twenty minutes ago.

Snapping out of his rambling train of thoughts, he flourished his wand and, once again, his spell and Voldemort's spell connected in a brilliant show of light, sound, and magic if he did say so himself. It almost looked like liquid fireworks. Oooo! Weasley Products Idea! Tell twin-that-lived! But only when it was actually appropriate, of course.

Once more, Voldemort couldn't face up to Harry's utter stubbornness and succumbed to the Magic. Harry had expected him to merely fall over, maybe give a little death rattle like they did in the movies. But he didn't expect to see Voldemort literally disintegrate before his eyes.

How Voldemort died didn't really matter. It was the simple fact that he was dead. _That_ was what counted. He stood up, breathing slowly and deeply. He was mostly in shock. It was strange to think that it was suddenly all over. There was nothing left to do. No Horcrux to find and destroy. No evil Snake man to run away from until it was _finally_ time to kill him. He didn't even have any exams. He supposed he could help rebuild the castle. It was a complete mess.

"Harry," Hermione said softly as she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, mate," Ron seconded as he came up on Harry's other side. He looked over his shoulder to see most of the survivors cautiously streaming out of the castle to see what was what. "Where's Voldemort?" It was the first time Harry had ever heard Ron say the name and he didn't even stutter. Harry was proud of him.

"Gone," Harry said. "Dead."

Hermione squeezed his shoulder tightly as if to offer both comfort and congratulations. After all, Harry had just killed a man and despite the fact that the man had been Voldemort the lengths he was forced to go to still upset Harry.

There was an intense moment of silence. Even those coming out of the castle were completely silent as the significance of what had just happened settled on them. They were free. They were free to rebuild, free to live, and free to just be. It was a powerful moment and while Harry normally found silence stifling today he found it liberating.

And then Ron sneezed.

"_Achoo_!"

The sneeze was so powerful that he actually recoiled a bit.

"Ugh, sorry," Ron said. "Something's in my nose."

"That probably Voldemort," Harry said blankly hoping to get back to the peace and quiet.

"What?" Ron exclaimed.

"He sort of disintegrated," Harry explained. "There's probably little pieces still floating around."

Ron's face contorted in absolute horror and he looked like he was about to throw up slugs again.

"Oh my god!" he shouted and everyone turned to stare at him. "_Achoo!_ I've got dead guy up my nose! _Achoo_!"

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall snapped. "Compose yourself."

"_Achoo_!" was the only answer she got as Ron continued to react to his apparent Voldemort allergy.

"Hermione?" Harry said.

"Yes, Harry?"

"You wouldn't happen to have any Benadryl in that bloody, beaded bag of yours?"

"No," she replied as she eyed her boyfriend's violent sneezing fit. "Just walk away from him." The two of them edged away from their redheaded third. Ginny came up to see what was wrong.

"Ron, are you alright?" she asked.

"No, I'm not alright!" he screamed, sounding slightly panicked. "I've got dead guy up my nose!"

And that was when Hermione started to giggle and before anyone knew it the two other members of the Golden Trio were in full hysterics as the redhead continued his sneezing and his shouting in the middle of what would become known as the Hogwarts Battlefield.

It was quite the sight.


End file.
